


Frontier Medicine

by lara_s



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Friendship, Growing Up, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 00:15:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6447745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lara_s/pseuds/lara_s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Early first season.  Julian comes to realize what a BAMF Kira is and starts to respect her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frontier Medicine

 “Odo to Dr. Bashir.  Two to beam to the infirmary immediately.”

“Go ahead Constable.”  The words are hardly spoken before the transport beam begins to materialize and Odo appears carefully holding the limp, unmoving, form of Major Kira in his arms.

It is, Julian realizes, the Major’s first appearance in the infirmary as a patient.  The petite alien woman who looks at him with such disdain, that is when she bothers to acknowledge him at all, has made it clear she’d gnaw her own arm off before admitting to needing any assistance from him.  It’s not at all surprising she had to be rendered unconscious for someone to actually get her in here. 

He’s been on the station for two months now and still, the Major is an enigma.  Bashir put a lot of thought into coming to Deep Space Nine.  He did his research on the Occupation.  Read case studies about refugees from war torn worlds.  Studied up on treating PTSD and other ailments born of psychological trauma.  All the careful preparation doesn’t help much when faced with the reality that is Kira Nerys.  Intense, all sharp edges and confrontation, she doesn’t bother to hide her dislike of Starfleet in general and the good doctor in particular. 

The Bajoran’s attitude irks him more than it should, but then again, Julian’s always been a people pleaser.  He does his best to graciously excuse her rude behavior.  It’s not that he wants or expects platitudes for doing his job, but he has a hard time comprehending the level of barely restrained hostility.  He really is there to help after all.  Can’t she see that? 

That said, he’s not so completely naïve that he doesn’t realize how he unwittingly insulted the temperamental senior officer right from the start.  _Frontier_ _medicine indeed.  Way to go there Jules, no wonder the woman doesn’t like you._   Genetic enhancements regrettably don’t keep you from sticking your foot in your mouth.  Well, Julian figures, by the look of what’s in front of him, whether she wants it or not, the Major is about to experience some frontier medicine first hand. 

“What happened?”

Odo harrumphs.  “Rather than wait for my security personnel to arrive, she took it upon herself to singlehandedly break up a fight at Quarks.  In the ensuing melee, she took a hit to the head that knocked her out.  I’m pretty sure she has at least a couple broken ribs as well.”

The doctor motions for the Security Chief to bring the Major into one of the private exam rooms.  “Over here please.”  Odo does as asked, placing Kira on the bed with surprising tenderness and making no movement towards leaving. 

“Dori,” Bashir calls over one of the nurses on duty, “Help me get her uniform top off so we can determine the damage done to her ribs.”   

Grabbing a tricorder and starting to log her vitals, he can’t help but notice the faint marks on Kira’s arms indicating where broken bones were once crudely, amateurishly, re-set.  From what he can tell, at least twice on her right arm, and once on her left.  A puckered indentation of discolored flesh above her hip looks like a disrupter burn.  There’s a jagged line running from just under her right breast across her abdomen, the likely result of some sort of knife fight. 

That’s all bad enough, but when they turn her over onto her stomach, for one awful moment, Julian thinks he’s actually going to be violently ill right there on the floor in front of Dori and Odo.  Kira’s slim, pale back is a mass of scars upon scars.  He’s seen some pretty terrible things during his med school training, but nothing quite like this.  There’s not an inch of her flesh left untouched.  Some of the marks are faint, nothing more than barely visible thin white slivers.  Others are obviously more recent, raised angry red welts.  What happened exactly is impossible to tell but it’s clear she’s been tortured horribly on numerous occasions.  Involuntarily, he takes a step back in horror, fighting the nausea rising up in his stomach with every breath.

Nurse Dori, a kindly, matronly Bajoran woman of around fifty, sighs a resigned sigh.  Bowing her head in a brief gesture of reverence she’s the first to speak into the sudden hushed silence of the room.  “Such is the fate of our brave resistance fighters.  Poor child.  Most that were beaten to this extent did not live through it.  Touched by the prophets she must be to have survived.”

Odo on the other hand gives Bashir a thoroughly disgusted look that rivals one of Kira’s own glares.  “You’re stunned by her appearance doctor?  I can’t imagine why.  Did you think the Occupation was all fun and games?  This is what she’s suffered for a free Bajor.  Far worse are the unseen scars left on her pagh.  Now, if you would please attend to the matter at hand…”

Bashir doesn’t miss the surprising flurry of emotions floating across the Changeling’s strange face (something to ponder another time perhaps) and the impassioned words from the normally taciturn Constable spur the doctor into action.  “Yes, yes.”  Properly scolded, he turns his focus fully on healing the Major’s ribs, three of which are indeed broken, and doesn’t look up or speak again until done.  “She’ll be fine,” he says at last.  “I’m going to leave her asleep a little while longer, but she’ll be up with very little ill effects before too long.”         

“Very well.”  Odo visibly relaxes and makes his way to the door.  “I will be back in Security.  Please call me if anything changes and ask her to check in with me once she’s able.”

“Bashir!”  The angry feminine voice two hours later is unmistakable. 

Julien quickly hands Molly O’Brian back over to her father.  “You’ll feel better soon, sweetie.  My other patient is awake now.  I need to go check on her okay?”

The little girl looks at him with solemn eyes and nods.  Miles however gives the doctor a rueful look and a slap on the shoulder as he leaves with his daughter in tow.  “Good luck, man.  You’ll probably need it.”

“Why am I here?” Kira demands irritably the instant he walks in the room. 

“You lost a fight with a rowdy gang of Klingons,” he replies with his most pleasant bedside manner and proceeds to outline the extent of her injuries. 

She groans.  “Damn.  The last thing I remember is telling that fool Koranth and his friends to lay off the bloodwine.  I need to talk to Odo, find out what happened.  I certainly hope those idiots are in holding cells.”  Gingerly she swings her legs over the side of the bed as if to stand up.  Automatically he steps forward to give her a hand, but she impatiently waves him off and gets up herself, awkwardly but without assistance. 

“By all means Major, you’re free to go.  I have no reason to keep you here, but please, take it easy for the next couple days.  I’m not a miracle worker.  Limited physical activity for at least a week.  I really do mean that.”

“I’ll be fine,” she says, discounting his words as he knew she would, slowly hobbling across the room.  Evidently she doesn’t notice or care she’s wearing nothing more than her under garments and a thin hospital gown.  He gets the sense in some way that she’s almost daring him to make a comment. 

Spotting her clothing folded on the nearby counter, Kira gives a harsh bark of laughter when he makes a point to turn his back to provide her a modicum of privacy.  As she gets dressed she talks over her shoulder at him.  “I imagine it’s a little late for any modesty on my part.  You got an eyeful, I’m sure.  I bet you just can’t wait to tell me all about how your amazing Starfleet technology can make poor unfortunate me look as good as new.”

He had been thinking about exactly that, but with dawning comprehension, had opted to keep his mouth shut unless or until she brought it up first.  “If you want me to Major, yes, I can restore your skin to some extent.  I’m sure you already know standard dermal regenerators can’t do much faced with this level of damage though.  A specialist might be able to repair it completely, I’m really not sure.  I can look into it for you if you’d like?”

“Forget it.  I’m not letting you or anyone else rub out my history because it’s _uncomfortable_ for others to face.  It wouldn’t matter anyway.  You can’t waive your magic wand and erase what put those scars there in the first place.  Just stick to healing broken bones since you seem to be good at that.”  She pulls on her boots, ungracefully clomping out of the room and beyond the infirmary doors.

Bashir shakes his head, rightly assuming her parting shot is about as much of a thank you as he is going to get.  Nonetheless, as he watches her leave, a glimmer of real understanding begins to take place…   

**Author's Note:**

> There are some good Kira/Bashir fics out there. I read about 5 of them all at once one night and was inspired to try to write my own. It was surprisingly difficult. I had this really long involved story idea but just couldn't put it together the way I wanted it to. Nonetheless, I still like the idea of Bashir seeing Kira's scars and it being a catalyst for getting over his own privilege though. So I decided to re-write that part of my scrapped story and post it as a short scene.


End file.
